Not Fade Away
by ladycobert
Summary: A collection of random Cobert drabbles and ficlets, sometimes from prompts and sometimes from my own imagination.
1. You know my love a-not fade away

Cora reached up and pressed her finger to Robert's chin. "I don't know what it is about the cleft in your chin, darling, but it makes you seem so … so masculine."

Robert's breath began to become heavier - as it always did - at her touch. "Does it? Some might say that a dimple in one's chin is a sign of weakness."

"Oh no," she insisted. "It's a sign of strength. And I find it utterly attractive." She leaned up to press her lips there, making him close his eyes.

"Hmmm…" he hummed. "Well, since you put it that way…" He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her fervently, wanting to prove to her how strong - and tender - he could be.


	2. I try to show it and you drive a-me back

"Robert Crawley! Give me back my clothes this instant, or I swear I'll–" Cora hissed.

Robert held her clothes behind his back, his own at his feet. They'd had a pleasant dalliance in a secluded part of the garden, their own secret hideaway. But he didn't want to go into the house yet – despite knowing that if they didn't go back soon they would be late for the dressing gong and probably for dinner. As his mother would be in attendance, Cora didn't want to take the chance of being late.

"Or you'll what?" He jumped agilely away from her grasp, laughing, as she made for his arm again. He was enjoying teasing her so much.

Cora screwed up her face in frustration, balling her fists by her sides, her flush spreading from her face down her chest now. She looked so very marvelous, it was all Robert could do not to drop everything and pounce upon her.

"I'll – I'll –" Her expression lit up as she hit upon an idea. Quicker than he could realize she had something up her sleeve – so to speak – she'd reached down and scooped up all his clothes as well. "I'll take these and run across the lawn – and I won't hold them in front of me!"

Robert's jaw dropped, his hold loosening somewhat on her clothing. "You wouldn't dare."

"I would too!" She took a step toward the hedge wall, stubbornness and determination flashing in her blue eyes.

Not thinking she could be serious, Robert clutched her clothes tighter behind him, set his jaw firmly, and stepped back.

Cora simply said, "Right," and, nimbly as a doe, sprinted down the garden path, his clothing divided between her two hands and streaming out behind her. "Catch me if you can!" she called out behind her, giggling as she felt somewhat liberated, feeling light and free.

Dropping her clothes in surprise, Robert thundered after her, abandoning covertness for haste. "Cora!" he called. "Get back here!"

He hesitated only seconds when he reached the garden gate, watching his wife wheel around happily on the lawn, having scattered his clothes behind her. Her arms were out and she even turned a cartwheel, making happy little shrieks. His eyes glazing over as he observed her obvious lack of reticence or even modesty, Robert ran out from where he stood at the gate and began to chase her, causing her to shriek even more, circling the lawn several times and hiding behind trees to avoid his outstretched hands.

After a few laps around the lawn, Cora dashed toward the garden again, laughing and glancing behind her to be certain he was following her. She was getting a stitch in her side, so he easily caught up with her just inside the garden gate, where he swept her up into his arms and kissed her soundly as he carried her back to their hiding place.

Needless to say, they were (dreadfully) late for dinner, since after they'd had another go Cora had had to dress and find all of her husband's garments and bring them back to him. Except she had no luck finding his underwear. When one of the gardeners found them the next week and brought them, perplexed, to Mrs. Hughes, the housekeeper laughed, calmly gave them to Bates, and remembered when she'd seen two naked figures streaking across the lawn, happily chasing one another, without a care in the world.

* * *

From a prompt on tumblr to write a ficlet or drabble where they streak across the lawn.


	3. I wanna love you night and day

My, my - this escalated into M territory rather quickly. ;)

* * *

They were in their upstairs sitting room, having a private tea. Sedate chit chat turned into banter, which was soon accompanied by gentle touches and brief caresses. However, once Cora began to run her hand up and down his leg more intentionally, her expression flirtatious, Robert asked if the room was exceptionally warm to her. At her slow nod and a waggle of her eyebrows, he sprang forward to kiss her, leaning her back on the settee.

The heat created by their banter and small touches had already taken over Robert – and apparently his wife as well, since she wasted no time in pushing off his jacket and waistcoat to get to his braces and shove those off his shoulders as well in order to remove his trousers and underthings. Robert paused in his own quest to raise her skirt to kick off his shoes and rid himself of the offending lower garments, his mouth not leaving Cora's. Once these were on the floor, he returned to his task of bringing her skirt up around her waist, slipping his fingers beneath the waistband of her undergarments and sliding them down her legs.

"Robert…" Cora breathed, bucking her hips up where they brushed against him, causing him to moan.

Kissing her neck now, Robert fitted himself between her thighs and pushed into her with a feverish need.

Cora reached around and squeezed his buttocks before running her hands up and beneath his shirt, breathing heavily and letting out little squeaks of delight as she shuddered happily beneath him.

So lost in one another at this moment, neither noticed the sound of the door opening.

"My, my," Rosamund said, staring blatantly at the couple on the settee.

"Rosamund!" Robert's head snapped up, his face reddening to a deep crimson.

Cora turned her head a little to see her sister-in-law in the doorway. She, too, blushed, but she merely giggled and clutched Robert closer to her.

Robert put up a hand and fumbled along the back of the settee, endeavoring to locate the blanket he knew was there, his eyes still on Rosamund. He felt a corner of it and jerked it behind him, so it covered their nether limbs.

Rolling her eyes, Rosamund said, "It's not as though I haven't seen a man's naked behind before, brother." She chuckled.

If anything, this made Robert's face go redder. "Don't you knock?"

Cora giggled again from the shelter his arms provided her.

Rosamund raised an eyebrow, still completely unabashed. "As it's a sitting room in the middle of the afternoon, I didn't think I would have to. I wanted to discuss something with Cora, but I can see she's a trifle busy at the moment – and might be for some time." She put her hand on the doorknob and added, "Cora, I'll just talk to you about this later, shall I?"

From beneath Robert, a delicate hand protruded, waving assent, accompanied by another peal of laughter. Rosamund had the cheek to wink at her brother and say, "Carry on," before closing the door behind her.

Robert looked down at Cora, her face nearly as red as his own. "Are you alright?" he asked her.

Cora chuckled. "I will be if you 'carry on' as your sister told us." She reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down to kiss her again. At this Robert forgot all about the interruption and most willingly, happily complied.

* * *

Another tumblr prompt (the one before was also from darling Lynn): "Your next Cobert ficlet should be Rosamund accidentally walking in on them in the throes of passion because she wants to speak with Cora about something. Because I want an embarrassed Robert."

I hope I delivered, Lynn dear.


	4. I'm a-gonna tell you how it's gonna be

Robert entered the bedroom quietly. His wife had her nose in a book; she appeared completely absorbed and hadn't seemed to notice his presence. He tread very softly until he was behind her chair, peering over her shoulder at the page.

What he saw made his eyes grow incredibly wide and his face flush a deep shade of scarlet. He tilted his head slowly, staring at the illustration in front of him, then gasped.

Hearing this, Cora swiftly shut the book with a resounding _snap_. She spun around in her chair and exclaimed, "Robert! Don't you know it's rude to read over someone's shoulder?" Her brows drew together menacingly.

But Robert wasn't looking at her. He gaped at the cover of the closed book, the illustration burned into his mind. "What – what was that?"

Cora almost choked on the chuckle that bubbled up in her throat. She endeavored to keep a straight face, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "If you don't know then I'm not sure how much I can help you."

"That's one of your _books_, isn't it?" He continued to stare at the plain red cover.

"Robert, I think you know the answer to that." Cora watched his expression change from one of astonishment to one of awe – and excitement.

"Let me see –" Robert made a lunge for the book, but Cora was ready for him and neatly evaded his attempt, jumping out of the chair and clutching the book to her chest.

Facing him, her feelings vacillated between annoyance at his behavior and amusement at the glint in his eye. "No. In the wrong hands this can be a very dangerous book."

Robert didn't appear to be listening. He pointed at the volume in question. "We – we've never done _that_ before."

Tossing her braid over her shoulder, Cora sighed. "You're right, we haven't. I thought we might try it tonight, but I'm not so sure…." She eyed him warily.

His face fell. "Why not? And why can't I see the book?"

"Because, Robert, you'll get overly-eager and probably hurt yourself – or me. You'll want to try everything all at once, and then we'll have nothing new for later." She set her countenance stubbornly.

Robert opened his mouth to contradict her, but stopped. She was probably right. He probably _would_ be over-zealous, and he probably _would_ want to try everything as soon as possible. So instead of arguing with her, he laughed. "Alright, I won't insist on seeing the book – or any of the others. On one condition."

Cora's stared at him skeptically. "What's that?" She clung tighter to the volume.

He appeared sheepish, and his cheeks colored again. "We can try that – that position I saw?" He waved his hand at the book again.

Smirking, Cora loosened her stranglehold on the book. "Of course, darling." She dropped the volume into her bedside table drawer, then held her hands out to him. "No time like the present."

Grinning like a fool, Robert bounded over to her, kissing her passionately before pulling away and awaiting her instructions.

* * *

For lovely tumblr user its-because-of-his-lordship, who made this request: "Robert catches Cora reading one of 'her books'. He manages to get a glimpse of a picture before she snaps it shut."

This may become the basis for a much longer fic. Once I get some of these other projects either done or at least underway.


	5. For you to know just how I feel

"I don't understand! I just put new blades in this razor yesterday! How can they be dull already?" Robert called through from the washroom.

Looking up from her book, Cora colored a trifle. "Well…"

Robert poked his head into the bedroom, shaving foam and a puzzled expression on his face. "Cora…?"

"Now, Robert, the hemlines on skirts these days have gotten quite high, and it's not practical to wear heavy stockings in the summer." She clutched her book to her chest, still blushing.

He cocked his head at her, not understanding.

"It's the fashion to have nice, smooth legs, and I heard the girls talking…." She lowered her lashes, red spreading down her neck.

"Cora…." Robert's mouth dropped.

Lifting her eyes to meet his, she gave him a sheepish look. "I used your razor to shave my legs." The words tumbled out of her mouth as if strung together.

"You did what?" He stepped more fully into the room, his eyes wide.

Cora shrugged a bit. "Just to the knee, Robert." Then she started to giggle. "You know, they feel so nice, I can't stop touching them." As if for emphasis, she rubbed her calves together beneath her night dress skirt.

Watching her do this, Robert's eyes grew dark. If he hadn't had shaving foam on his face, he might have licked his lips. "You – you can't?"

Observing how he watched her move, she tugged at her night dress skirt, raising it just a bit to expose a pair of smooth white ankles. "No, I can't."

Robert moved toward the chaise, a silly grin on his face now. "Might – might I feel them?"

Looking at him standing there, the expression on his face, the lustful glint of his eyes, the shaving foam beginning to melt and drip off his chin and onto his night shirt front, and his hands clasped around the handle of the safety razor, Cora began to laugh. "Go wash that off, and I'll think about it."

Jumping into action, Robert nearly ran into the washroom to rinse his face and leave the razor on the edge of the sink. In two shakes, he was back, kneeling by the chaise, his hand poised above her ankle. "Might I?"

In reply, Cora waggled her eyebrows at him and twitched the night dress up higher on her leg.

Robert placed his hand on her ankle and slowly glided it up, eventually making passes beneath her night dress and all the way to her knee. Soon, he was feeling her legs with both hands and then his lips were following in their wake. "Sweetheart," he whispered, looking up at her, "you can use my razor anytime you like." Pressing a kiss to her shin, he added, "Might you consider going a little higher next time?"

Cora laughed. "Don't push your luck, darling." She bent down to his eye level. "Although I might consider it if I had some help."

Running his hands up and down her legs over and over, grinning, Robert decided he liked the new fashions after all.


	6. Your love for me a-got to be real

My dearest one,

I sit here, in my tiny room at the club, and all I want is to be home again. I hate when business takes me away. I've only been here a day, and already I ache to be back on the train - on my way back to you.

Darling, I should be asleep, but as the night goes on, I can't help but think of you, and it keeps me awake. Do not misunderstand me - the thoughts are pleasant - but they aren't enough. They don't replace the feel of your hand in mine or the soft texture or scent of your hair. And of course, other ways that you enchant and excite me….

Honestly, the business today went well, and I anticipate it going well in the next few days too. If it doesn't, then I may have to throw my hands up in the air and tell Murray to take care of it - that I have to go home and take care of my wife. Don't worry, Cora, I wouldn't actually say that. But it's what I would mean - when I arrive home, I will take care of you in whatever, and in as many, ways you wish. I long to taste your mouth and caress your skin - but also to draw you a bath or read you to sleep, to massage your back or sneak down to the kitchens and bring you a snack when you're hungry in the middle of the night.

The older I get, the more unbearable being away from you becomes. I wonder why that is? Is it because every day I fall even more in love with you? I have a feeling that is part of it. But it's also that you are part of me - the best part. You know how to calm me, to make me recall what is important. You don't know what that means to me, my love. Somehow, you temper me. You always have. You remind me of what is real, what is true, what is vital. For that, I cannot ever express my gratitude.

Well, I guess we can see what happens when we mix your absence from me with copious amounts of Scotch. I wax - well, I don't think I'd say poetic, but perhaps "romantic"? I'd like to think so, even though I've never thought of myself in such a way. "Rambling" is perhaps a better word. Oh, my sweetheart, I miss you. I don't like being here without you. I feel as if I'm floating without my moorings. And not even floating - sinking. Trips like this make me realise that you ground me more than I ever recognise. My gratitude cannot be measured.

But I see I may be rambling again. Dear heart, I simply wanted to tell you I miss you and will be on the train home as soon as this business will allow. I cannot wait to hold you and kiss you and… well, I think you understand me. At least, I hope you do. If I rush through the greetings with the rest of our family, you'll know why, I hope. I cannot wait to be alone with you. I think your imagination can supply the rest. But if it fails you, just know that even tonight I'm, well, thinking of things only you can do, and - to be honest, sweetheart, I think I just blushed, even alone in my room here.

I'll leave this letter here, I believe. I cannot wait to be home with you, my lovely darling, my sweet and beautiful wife.

My love always and ever,  
Your Robert

* * *

My love,

I do not know why I feel compelled to write you in London, as, even if I have it posted tomorrow, a letter won't get to you before you reach home in a few days. But perhaps it will make me feel closer to you. The day passed well enough, but your empty place at the dinner table seemed to affect me more than I'd thought it would. And now I sit curled up in the middle of our bed, writing this, a large book on my knees to bear down on, and am missing you so much I can hardly breathe. Are you missing me too?

You'll be gone from me for only a few days, and it's not as if you haven't been down to London on business many times before. Why does it seem so different this time? I don't have an answer. All I know is my thoughts keep drifting back to this morning, and how we… but I won't go into detail. I'm sure you remember. If you don't, I'll have to see what I can do to remind you upon your return….

My, I seem to have made myself quite warm with those thoughts. If you were here, I know you would take proper advantage of the state in which I find myself. However, as you are not, I may have to draw myself a cool bath instead. But later. Now I'll continue with a letter that is already proving to be no more than mere scribblings of a woman who cannot stop herself from leaning down to press her face into your pillow so she can smell your scent, since she cannot have you near.

How am I to make it through the next few days? Without your smiles or your hand holding mine? Without your quiet company while I sit in the drawing room with my embroidery and you read? Without your arm around me while we sleep? I don't know why, but your going to London has only reminded me all the more how important – how vital – simply your presence is to me. I don't feel like myself when you aren't here; I feel incomplete. So, come home to me soon and make me whole again. Come home to me so I can show you how very much I need you – how very much I love you.

Since I won't be mailing this letter, I think I'll leave it on your bedside table, so you can read it when you're here with me once more. And then, perhaps, I can remind you of this morning….

With so much love,

Cora

* * *

_A/N: From a tumblr prompt by its-because-of-his-lordship, where she asked me to have Cora write a letter to Robert while he's away in London. Well, I misunderstood and wrote the first one instead. But I promised her a Cora to Robert letter, so that one is here as well. Cora rambles even more than Robert. I'm not sure how that happened._


	7. A love that's love - not fade away

When the maids, Thomas – even his daughters – stared at their exotic guest, Robert didn't blink an eye. Robert supposed he was handsome, this Mr. Pamuk, and he appeared to have nice enough manners.

But when Cora's eyes sparkled in a very particular way as she greeted the Turkish diplomat, Robert tensed. She was charming to him – then again, she was always charming. But her eyes didn't generally sparkle that way around other guests. They hadn't for Mr. Napier – or even the Duke of Crowborough.

Robert believed he kept his breathless incredulity hidden well enough as he watched Mr. Pamuk bend over his wife's hand and kiss it, his dark eyes flitting to hers with an attractive smile. He allowed himself to raise his eyebrows, when what he really wanted to do was step between the two, shielding Cora from this foreign Casanova.

After Mary, Mr. Napier, and Mr. Pamuk had departed to have their baths, Robert went upstairs to his dressing room and sat in one of the chairs, trying to shake the image of Cora's face at the moment the Turk had kissed her hand out of his mind. Elbows on his knees, he placed his head in his hands and pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes. He knew there was no reason to be jealous, but he was – unaccountably, undeniably jealous.

When had been the last time Cora had looked at him with the same glint in her eyes? Again, he recognized that he was being silly. She gave him that look all the time. They were still – after two and a half decades – so completely in love.

Still, it bothered him.

He lifted his head a while later, at a knock on the dividing door. "Yes?"

"Darling, can I come in?"

Taking a deep breath, Robert called out, "Of course, Cora."

Stepping in and closing the door behind her, Cora leaned back against it. "Are you alright, Robert?" she asked, a cautiousness in her voice. His shoulders slumped forward and his elbows rested upon his knees. Underneath his eyes were purple shadows that hadn't been there earlier.

He nodded. "Yes, my dear. I'm fine." His attempt at a smile didn't fool his wife.

"No, you're not. Robert, I've known you far too long for you to try to hide when you're upset from me." She crossed over to him and met his eyes, touching his cheek gently.

Then he lowered his eyes, shrugging. "No, it's nothing," he mumbled.

"'Nothing' wouldn't happen to have dark eyes and a brooding face and an excellent command of English for someone who wasn't born to the language, would it?" she inquired softly.

Her voice both caressed and teased. He remained silent, bringing his clasped hands to his lips and closing his eyes, suppressing a sigh. He felt too silly to admit it.

Cora moved her hand to brush her fingers through his hair. "I saw your face as he was walking away, darling." Her tone was serious now, lower.

Robert lifted his eyes to hers, unable to deny it. "You seemed quite taken with him."

The statement hung there between them. He hadn't said it in a cruel manner, merely as a bare fact. Cora stood there, waiting.

"He is quite attractive, Cora." Robert sighed and bent his head down, putting his arms along the arms of the chair. "He has great appeal – the youth and exotic dark looks. The dazzling smile, I suppose. And, I'm sure we'll see at dinner, incredible wit and perfect manners."

Before she knew what she was doing, she'd sat herself in his lap, her arms encircling his neck. "Robert? Look at me, please."

He raised his head again, meeting her eyes, unmoving otherwise.

"Yes. You're right. He's attractive and charming. But you have something that he'll never have."

Her cornflower blue eyes sparkled at him bewitchingly. "What's that?" he whispered.

"Me."

Robert wrapped his arms around her waist finally, his face brightening considerably. "I'm happy to know that, my dearest one."

Drawing her closer, he kissed her, all thoughts of their Turkish guest soon chased away by far more important – and pleasant – things.

* * *

_A/N: So someone gave me a prompt a LONGGGGG time ago on tumblr to do Robert's reaction to Cora greeting Pamuk, but I cannot remember who or exactly when. But, thanks to whomever it was because it chased away a very bad mood for me to write this. ^_^_


	8. Dying of laughter

_A/N: I reblogged a list of phrases/words on tumblr and got quite a few responses. The following few drabbles/ficlets are the result of those. From its-because-of-his-lordship: "43 and my favourite couple, of course. Yes, I know it's angsty, but you do it really well." Well. I didn't interpret "43. Dying" with much angst, as you'll see…._

* * *

They'd been trying a new position from one of her books. Somehow, it ended up with Robert spinning off the bed and into the floor.

"Bloody hell!" he shouted.

Cora covered her mouth, but she couldn't hide her giggles. Her flushed face peered over the edge of the bed. "Are you alright, Robert?" she asked, still laughing.

"Well, I don't know." Robert tried to sit up, putting his weight on his arms. "OUCH!" he yelled. Scowling up at his wife, Robert muttered, "No, I don't think I'm alright."

Cora couldn't help continuing to laugh at the situation in which they now found themselves. "What is the matter?"

"Are you laughing at me?" Robert cradled his left arm in his right, wincing.

"Darling, I'm sorry. I don't mean to. But, if you're going to see Dr. Clarkson, he's going to ask you what happened." Cora got up and wrapped her dressing gown around her, joining him on the floor and attempting to control her chortles.

"Cora, it's not funny! I'm injured!" It chagrined him to see that this only added to her mirth. "I'm so glad you find my possibly broken arm humorous." Sarcasm dripped from his mouth.

"Oh, darling," she said, "I'm so sorry. I'm just not sure he'll have encountered this explanation before. Honestly, I don't want to laugh; I hate that you're hurt - especially because of, well…." She had the grace to blush. "But, come on, you have to admit it's funny - at least a little?"

His features softened a trifle at how her countenance glowed, even as she took his arm gingerly and examined it. "I suppose there is a bit of humor," he conceded. "But dying of laughter? I find that a trifle inappropriate. I am hurting." He pouted.

Finally managing to keep her laughter under control, Cora pressed a gentle kiss to his elbow, eliciting a loud "ouch!" from her husband. "I'm sorry, my love," she said. "For that and for laughing. A broken arm is really no laughing matter. Come, let's get you at least somewhat dressed, and then we'll have Carson telephone Dr. Clarkson."

"Do you think I'll have to tell him what happened?" Robert's eyes went wide.

"Well, you'll have to be the judge of that, Robert. You don't want him to have a false impression of your injury." Mirth wreathed Cora's lips as she stood and took his right arm to help him up. "And I wasn't dying of laughter," she mumbled defensively. "I couldn't help laughing a little. I've never seen you spin through the air like that. It was rather amusing."

A smile played about his eyes and mouth. "Yes, well. I hope that when I'm recovered we could try that again. This time without my flying into the floor. If you'd let me study the pictures…."

Cora stopped them and looked at him seriously. "No. We've already discussed this. You'll get over-excited. I mean, admit it - you got over-excited today, and that's what landed us in this mess!" She chuckled.

"Oh, alright. Although, if my arm really is broken, we may need to try some new things…."

Cora rolled her eyes. "Robert, you are incorrigible, even when injured." She kissed his cheek and opened his dressing room door for him, so she could help him into some sort of clothing before the doctor would arrive.


	9. In the Storm

_A/N: Second of the tumblr drabble series, this prompt from lixstormings. "96 / Cora and Robert ;)" 96 = In the Storm._

* * *

"It was a dark and stormy night -"

"Robert," Cora giggled, "don't start it that way. It's so trite!"

"What else do you suggest?" Robert gestured around their bedroom to the candles upon every surface. "You asked for a story, and I thought I would start with the facts. It is a dark and stormy night," he pointed out, literally pointing to the darkened window where rain pummeled the panes. "The electricity has failed us, and it's the perfect setting for a ghost story."

"A ghost story?" Cora laughed, pressing closer to him beneath the bedclothes where they lay curled together. "I don't recall asking for a ghost story."

"Cora, you did not specify the genre you preferred for my story. And since I am the storyteller…." He grinned at her, his face dancing in shadow from the candles.

"Might you tell a love story, darling?" she asked, her fingers grazing over the silvery curls on his bare chest.

"I think I could do that." His blue eyes lit up, then his forehead furrowed in thought. Suddenly, it cleared. "It was a dark and stormy night -"

"Robert!" Cora swatted his arm.

"Cora, it's my story! I can tell it as I like!" He made a fine show of annoyance, although Cora knew he really wasn't annoyed with her, since he drew her closer. "_It was a dark and stormy night_," he said loudly, putting two fingers over her opening mouth to silence her. "A man, who was completely infatuated with his wife, even after three decades with her, finds, much to his astonishment, that he has fallen in love with her all over again. Her wit, her grace, her beauty, and the million ways she has of making his heart sing have struck him anew. And all he wants to do, as the rain hits their home, is to cleave her to his side - as she is his partner and his helpmeet, and that is where she belongs - and to press kisses to her lips and sweet-smelling skin…" Robert suited actions to his words for a few moments before resuming, "…and to make sure she knows, beyond all doubt, how utterly he adores her."

Cora grinned at him, caressing his cheek. "I like that story very much," she whispered.

"See?" he replied. "Sometimes a good story will begin with a trite phrase. It doesn't mean the story will be trite."

"No, darling," Cora agreed. "Your story wasn't trite at all." She pulled Robert to her and kissed him, before drawing the sheet over their heads with a giggle.


	10. Blood

_A/N: Third in the tumblr drabble series, prompt from modernamericangirl: Cobert and 17. Blood._

* * *

They'd been fighting.

It was the worst fight they'd had in ages, to the point where Cora actually raised her voice and the servants scurried as far from the library as they could get.

"Cora, it's ludicrous! I won't say it again." Robert turned his back on her to pour another drink for himself.

"No, you don't have to, do you? You've made yourself perfectly plain, even through your sputtering." Lifting her hands and rolling her eyes, she made a dismissive gesture. "You don't listen, Robert. You don't consider other people's feelings!"

He spun around, having downed most of the glass in one. His eyes narrowed. "Oh, I don't, don't I? I do what I must - for the estate, for this family. Sometimes I cannot afford to let feeling muddle my thinking!"

Cora shook her head angrily. "There you go again. Letting yourself cloak your own selfishness in the old excuse of 'the good of the estate'! That's all it is. You don't care what I want, what the girls might want or need; it's all about what the great Earl of Grantham wants!"

Robert slammed his glass down so hard upon the cabinet that it shattered. "Damn!" he exclaimed, blood dripping from several cuts upon his fingers and palm.

Jumping up when she saw this, Cora rushed to him. "Darling, let me see."

"Cora, stop fussing. It's nothing," he mumbled, a trifle ashamed of himself and thinking he might deserve what he got.

Letting out a "pfft," Cora took his hand in her own and peered at the cuts. "Robert, there's still glass in some of these! We have to get the doctor here."

Before he could say anything, she'd flown to the door of the library and called for Carson to send a footman for the doctor. Robert then let her lead him to a settee and sit down with him. Pulling out her handkerchief, she bent over his hand, her visage a study in concern and concentration as she applied the delicate square of linen in gentle pats to the blood, careful to avoid the shards of glass still lodged in his skin.

Robert watched her, wincing slightly as she performed this procedure. "Cora," he whispered, "I'm sorry. I let my temper get the better of me - again."

Without lifting her head, her attentions still fixed upon his wounds, she pursed her lips slightly. "Hush, Robert. It's bound to happen sometimes, for us to argue. I'm simply glad it doesn't always end in physical harm." She was silent for a moment, then looked up into his face. "I didn't mean it, you know. I was upset. I understand that you have to think of the estate. It simply pains me at times that it seems to always come first."

"But it shouldn't. Not always. Not when something I do threatens your happiness - _our_ happiness. I have to consider it."

He watched her nod and bend her head again, dabbing at the blood. "The doctor should be here soon." Locating a spot clear of blood and glass on the side of his palm, Cora brought his hand to her lips and kissed it. "You'll be fine." She focused her eyes upon him. "We'll be fine."


	11. Precious Treasure

_A/N: Fourth in the tumblr drabble series, prompt from gorgeousmeryl - "36 (Precious Treasure) and Cobert of course."_

* * *

Robert shut the door behind him, the noise startling Cora out of her light doze. He beamed at her as she straightened herself against the headboard and nodded toward the small bundle in her arms. "Is she sleeping?"

Cora dropped her eyes to the baby. "No, she's awake. Come here, darling." Despite her obvious fatigue – the labor had been very hard, Robert had been told – the moment she smiled, her entire face lit up, and he responded in kind.

Crossing the room, he sat tentatively down beside her upon the bed. The first thing he did was kiss her cheek and brush unruly locks from her brow. Then he peered between the folds of the fluffy white blanket where a pair of dark brown eyes stared back at him. The baby wriggled a trifle, an arm escaping. Robert touched her fingers carefully, an expression of complete joy upon his face.

"Darling," he whispered without taking his eyes off his daughter, "she looks just like you."

As she watched her husband's face, Cora couldn't stop warm tears of joy – and probably exhaustion – from falling down her cheeks. "Except her eyes. She has your papa's eyes."

"Yes, she certainly does." He finally turned his head from the baby, although keeping her hand in his. "Cora, please don't cry."

"I can't help it," she murmured, smiling. "My heart is so full right now."

Robert ran his finger along her cheekbones, wiping away her tears as best he could, then leaning up to kiss her forehead. "So is mine. Our little Lady Mary."

Taking a deep breath, Cora closed her eyes, then opened them. "Robert?" she asked, her voice timid. "You're – you're not disappointed are you? That the baby isn't a boy?"

Gazing at his wife, then turning to smile at Mary once more, he shook his head. "No." Lifting his head, he held her eyes with his, his hand sliding into her hair and cupping the back of her head. "No," he repeated. "Apart from you, our beautiful baby daughter is my most precious treasure."


	12. It Was Marvelous

_A/N: Um, so I was so inspired by the new Cobert picture(s) - and a fangirling session with modernamericangirl - that I did a thing..._

* * *

He held her close to himself, dancing with her, her red dress reminding him of one so long ago on their honeymoon. Of course, then the dress had been much different – but the color still brought him back to those days when they'd been first married.

She enchanted him – as she always had. Cora looked up into his face, her sweet smile firmly affixed upon her lips, her eyes sparkling, and Robert could hardly keep his poise. He wanted to pull her even closer, to kiss her, to take her away from all the people who mingled about and danced around them. He felt the heat rise in his face, and all of a sudden – he had to have her.

Bending his head close to her ear, he murmured, "Darling, it's quite warm; might we find another place to be?"

Cora chuckled, tapping her fingers upon his shoulder. "We haven't finished the dance, Robert."

Leaning closer, Robert breathed, "We can finish it elsewhere." He punctuated the statement by pressing a hand into her back briefly and smirking.

"Robert!" she exclaimed in a whisper. "It's irresponsible! We have guests!"

"I don't care," he murmured. "They can fend for themselves for a while, can't they?"

His breath upon her earlobe made her heart begin to race. "Well, I suppose that's true."

Grinning even more, he clasped her hand tighter and broke apart from her, leading her off the dance floor.

"Where are we going?" she queried, as they passed the main staircase. She expected him to take her upstairs.

"You'll see," he threw behind him.

In a moment they arrived at the billiards room. Cora's jaw dropped a bit when Robert pulled her into the room. Smoke rose above the table where several gentlemen were drinking and casually playing a game.

"Out!" Robert barked. "I need this room."

Cora's eyes went wide as the men left, leering at her as they did. "Robert!" she hissed. "What on earth has gotten into you?" The last man closed the door behind them and her husband jerked her to himself, looking down into her face with an expression of pure lust.

"You have."

She had only seconds to catch her breath before he crushed his lips to hers. In no time, he'd run his hand up her leg and pulled her skirt up with it. "Robert," she gasped.

"Don't speak, Cora. Don't say a word." He kissed her again with even more fervor, and the heat he generated spread through her own body.

However, a niggling fact worried at her. "The door – there's no lock…." She gasped when he cupped her bottom beneath her dress.

"I don't care," he murmured against her jaw, where he'd begun settling his kisses.

Cora couldn't be bothered to care anymore either. The look he'd given her as they'd danced – she knew he was as much in love with her as he'd been three decades before, and it intoxicated her far more than any alcohol could. "Robert," she sighed against his temple, running her hands up and down his torso.

Her sigh only spurred him on. "Cora," he breathed in return. "I need you. Please."

Feeling his arousal against her, she gazed into his eyes. "Take me then, my love. I cannot deny you – wouldn't want to."

Robert kissed her thoroughly as his hands ran up and down her hips, drawing down her undergarment with a pass over them. "Are you sure?" he asked.

"Yesssss," she hissed, keeping her eyes on his. "I need you," she whispered, wrapping her leg around his and running her foot against his thigh.

"I love you," he murmured, turning her around in his arms so she faced the billiard table. When she'd secured her hands against the side of it, he unbuttoned his trousers, pressing kisses to the back of her neck.

Cora leaned back against him. She closed her eyes, wondering how much longer she could wait.

Robert placed his lips upon her cheek. "Are you ready?" he asked, his voice husky.

"Yes, darling, yes," she said, pressing her body back against him. "Please."

Not knowing how he'd gotten ready so quickly, Cora gasped as he entered her from behind, clutching the billiard table to steady herself. "Darling," he whispered into her ear just before he began to thrust himself into her.

"Oh… God… Robert," she uttered as he continued, his hand creeping down her side to touch her more intimately and make her eyes widen with pleasure.

"Cora…" he murmured against her hair as she wriggled her behind against him, trying desperately to increase his delight as he catered to hers. "Good God," he let out.

Grinning, Cora continued to press back against him, her hands solidly upon the billiard table, gasping and shuddering. "Robert, yessss," she breathed.

Once he felt her convulse around him for a second – and third – time, Robert let go of himself, moving even more quickly against her, until he felt her a fourth time. It proved his undoing and he fell, his chest against Cora's back, breathing heavily.

"Cora." He murmured into her ear once more. "That was…." But he had no words to describe it.

"It was marvelous," she finished, turning her head to look at him a bit, grasping his hand in hers. "It was marvelous, and I hope it's not the end of tonight's pleasures." Cora blinked at him a few seconds, then sent a coy look his way.

"No," he said, placing several kisses along her neckline as he fumbled to pull her undergarments back over her. "Most certainly not. I mean that to be a preview…."

"Good." She winked at him. "In the meantime, we have guests, and I'm sure there are more waltzes."

"How am I to manage?" Robert whispered, half facetiously, and half utterly seriously. His wife's presence next to him did more than he liked to admit.

"Well, you will," she intoned, kissing him briefly and turning herself around as well, her arms sliding about Robert's neck. "You have to. I'll want you later," she whispered very deliberately in his ear.

"Stop that, Cora. Or else I'll have to pick you up right now and take you upstairs to our room." Robert closed his eyes.

"Later," she repeated, her breath hot upon his ear. "Later I will be all yours, to do with exactly as you please. Even though I know you already had your way with me there."

Robert opened his eyes and trained them upon hers. "I did. But there's nothing like falling asleep with you afterward." Leaning closely to her, he murmured. "I love you. So much I don't think I know how to say it. I need you and want you, but I also love having you rest in my arms after our exertions. There's nothing in the world like that."

Cora raised inquiring eyes to his. "Really?" she asked, although she thought she knew the answer after so many years together.

"Really," he breathed in her ear.

"Then that time will come soon enough, my love," she said, still looking into his eyes as she did up his trousers carefully. "But for now, we have guests. They'll be gone soon enough," she reassured him, placing a kiss upon his cheek.

Taking one long look to make sure neither of them were indecent, Robert tugged at Cora's hand with a smile, clearing his throat as they encountered Thomas in the hallway.

"Er, the billiard room is open again, Thomas," Robert said.

Thomas inclined his head, a hint of a twinkle in his eye. "Yes, my lord," was all he said as he watched Lord and Lady Grantham head back to the party.

"Soon," Cora whispered to him as they approached the great hall. She squeezed his hand.

Robert smiled in return. "Soon," he affirmed, before greeting their guests once more.


	13. Traps

_A/N: Another in the tumblr drabble series, this one prompted by modernamericangirl with 66. Traps._

* * *

It occurred to Robert again that marriage was full of traps.

He and Cora were about to celebrate their second anniversary, and his father-in-law, Isidore, had sent him a gift. Although Cora hadn't seen the gift yet, she insisted that he wear it to their celebratory dinner at their favorite London restaurant.

His valet having left, Robert eyed himself in the mirror with distaste. He wondered if Cora would laugh or make him change before dinner.

"Robert?" Cora knocked. "Darling, I've been waiting out here for at least ten minutes. Is something the matter?"

"Yes," he said, crossing to the door and opening it. He stood in front of her, glowering.

"Well?" she questioned, her eyes moving over him and back up to meet his scowl. "You said something is the matter?"

"Look at me!" he sputtered, raising his hands to indicate the elaborately embroidered waistcoat. "I'm not a bloody peacock, Cora!"

Cora's smile transformed into a frown. She trained her eyes upon the garment, appreciating the rich blues, greens, purples, and golds. "Robert, I don't understand. It's a beautiful waistcoat. Poppa has exquisite taste."

"Have you _ever_ seen me wear something so ridiculous?" He looked down at himself again, glaring at the fabric.

"Are you calling my father ridiculous?" Cora's voice contained a sharp edge and her eyebrow rose.

Robert hesitated. _Traps_, he thought. _One of those traps I rarely avoid successfully_. He adopted a more conciliatory tone. "No, I am not. But, honestly, Cora, how could he think I would want to wear something this foppish? Do I look like a dandy to you?"

Her eyebrow rose higher. "No, Robert. I would never accuse you of that. If anything, your attire is quite boring." She crossed her arms over her chest, her expression still slightly dangerous. "Fine. If you hate it so much, change." Glancing at the clock, she said, "We have time. I'll wait."

She remained rooted to the spot, the eyebrow unmoving, but her fingers began to tap upon her elbow. _Trap!_ his mind warned. Besides that, it was their anniversary, and he wanted to make his wife happy. Exchanging the colorful waistcoat for one of his boring (_Is my dress really boring?_) ones would most definitely not be the way to set the tone he wanted for the evening. Robert sighed, his countenance softening.

"No, Cora, I'll wear it. But only if _you_ like it."

A hint of a smile touched Cora's lips, and the eyebrow dropped a bit. She stopped drumming her fingers and turned slightly, running her gaze over the waistcoat and back up to his eyes. "I do like it. Very much. I don't think you realize how blue your eyes appear right now." Her brows returned to normal, and her smile widened.

Grinning, he skimmed his hands over the front of his chest, not aware that he did. "Do they?"

Cora closed the gap between them and lifted a hand, running light fingers along the edge of the waistcoat. In answer, she nodded very slowly, her eyes fastened upon his.

Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her close and bent his head to give her a tender kiss. "Happy anniversary," he murmured once he'd ended the kiss.

"Happy anniversary, my love." She leaned up to accept another kiss before adding, "You'll be the most beautiful peacock at the restaurant. All the other peacocks will be jealous."

Robert opened his mouth to protest, but shut it again as she snaked a hand around to pat his behind. She was teasing him. He put his lips to her ear. "Darling, if they're jealous it won't be because of my waistcoat. It'll be because of the magnificent bird on my arm."

"Mmmm," she hummed appreciatively. "Robert, we should go. Or else I will want to spend the entirety of our anniversary right here." Cora nipped his neck gently.

He released her and extended his arm for her to take, still grinning. "As lovely as that would be, there will be time for that later. For now, I would like to take you out and show you off."

Cora grasped his arm. "And I want to show you off, my fine peacock."

Robert chuckled. "I might grow to like your father's gift after all." Inwardly he heaved a sigh of relief. At least one trap he'd managed to avoid, and the evening was finally off to a promising start.


	14. Can You Hear Me?

_A/N: I have several more for the tumblr drabble series, this one coming from a non-tumblr person – 82. Can You Hear Me?_

* * *

Robert scanned the bookshelves in the library, trying to find a certain volume he used to read to Cora sometimes when she couldn't sleep during her pregnancies. Locating it, he pulled the book off the shelf and noticed a corner of worn, yellowed paper sticking out of it.

Furrowing his brows, Robert carried the book over to his chair and sat down. He extricated the paper, which had been folded into thirds. He unfolded the first third. The crease was deep, as if it had been folded for years. He recognized Cora's handwriting; it was a letter addressed to him and dated "24 December 1888."

Blinking at the page, Robert shook his head, his expression becoming even more bewildered. He could not remember having received any letter from his wife during the early months of their marriage. Letting the volume fall closed upon his lap, he smoothed the letter out completely, a crackling noise accompanying this action. Then he began to read:

_Dear Robert,_

_I sit here, alone, on Christmas Eve, finding myself at loose ends. Christmas is for spending with loved ones, family. But my family is across the ocean from me, and I'm not sure your family will ever be fully mine. As for loved ones…. You are my precious loved one. But, you don't love me in return. I accept that, but I struggle with the reality every day._

_And I have struggled with it especially today, and I am certain I will again tomorrow. Instead of spending the holiday with you, I have spent it mostly alone. It breaks my heart to realize that the man I changed my entire life for keeps moving farther from me. Do you realize it yourself? I'm not sure you do. I think you try, but it's not enough, is it? Perhaps I ask too much of you, Robert. Robert, my love._

_How I long to say those words to you. But I don't; I don't want to make you uncomfortable or alienate you. I savor every kind word, every gentle touch, and each of those all-too-fleeting moments wrapped in your arms at night – before you leave, taking my heart with you._

_You don't know, do you? You couldn't know; you would never intentionally hurt me. You've always been good to me, since we first met. Our courtship made me think things would be different. Maybe the fault is mine, in some way or another. But, Robert – my dear beloved – I wish it were different. I wish it could be as I imagined. I think we would both be so much happier._

_Every time we are alone together – it is never enough time, and not often enough – my heart cries out for some sort of resolution. Because, at times, things you do, things you say, they leave me wondering and terribly confused. It's a confusion only you can clear. Can you hear me, Robert? Can you hear my heart cry out? Can you hear my weeping at night once you've closed the door behind you? What else can I do to make you hear me?_

_How very much I love you, darling. I can't say it, so I write it here, and I'll keep it hidden away until the proper time – if that time ever comes. I'm beginning to despair that it ever will._

_Merry Christmas, my love. I still consider being your wife the greatest gift I've ever received.  
__With all my heart,_

_Cora_

Robert read the letter twice through, then twitched his handkerchief from his pocket, wiping the moisture from his eyes. He'd known how terribly in love with him she'd been, how difficult it had been for her for the months it took him to realize his own love for her. She'd told him this after he'd finally made his own declaration, but nothing could have prepared him for reading the raw emotion Cora had poured out upon the page before him.

All over again, he felt the cold wave of guilt that always filled him when thinking of those months. She'd told him on many occasions that she'd never blamed him, and now he had even more proof. It was himself he blamed.

Shaking himself, Robert stood, clearing his throat and tucking the refolded letter into his inside jacket pocket. He'd been downstairs longer than he'd meant to be. Taking the stairs two at a time, he knocked at his wife's bedroom door, and, obtaining permission, entered, smiling and holding up the book.

"You found it," she said, grinning and propping herself up more comfortably against her pillows. "Come read to me, darling." She beckoned to him and patted the bed beside her before resting her hands over her still small baby bump.

Robert left his shoes beside the bed and climbed up next to her. He slid an arm around her shoulders and pressed a kiss to her brow. She tucked herself comfortably into the crook of his arm and closed her eyes.

"I'll be happy for a nap," she sighed, "as I haven't been sleeping well at night."

Flicking through the pages awkwardly with one hand, Robert smiled softly, pressing another kiss to her hair and remembering her words in the letter. "Yes, you need to take care of yourself, my love."

"Thank you, Robert." She nestled herself deeper into the circle of his arm. "You've always been so good to me, my dear."

His lips still upon her hair, Robert closed his eyes briefly. "I love you, Cora," he whispered. "And I hear you."


End file.
